Reflection
by lafleurdumal
Summary: Futurefic. "He always knows how to make her laugh or when she needs a hug."


_This is a futurefic, with no real spoilers I think. __It's my first time in this fandom, and I wanted to thank my beta hobbleit. Reviews are very appreciated :)._

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**Reflection**

She doesn't fully understand her father. Nobody does. They're close, maybe not as much as she'd like, but still pretty close. It just feels like something is missing. Something about him that totally eludes her; a very important piece of a very complicated puzzle. Most of the time, they get along great. They have this silent communication going for them. He always knows what kind of mood she's in, and how to get her out of the most somber ones. He always knows how to make her laugh or when she needs a hug. As her mother likes to say, she is such a daddy's girl. And she can count on one hand the number of times he's been able to say no to her. It helps that she never felt the need to rebel or act out.  
For the longest time, he was the coolest thing that ever existed. He still is, but she won't admit it as easily. Not since he scared away Nathan Ryder last year. To this day, she still doesn't know what he whispered in his ear that made him run away so fast. She's not pissed exactly, nor surprised. She hadn't liked Nathan that much anyway. She's just a little annoyed that her father seemed to enjoy that way too much. But there's still nothing she likes more than their annual road trip, when they take the car, his antique tapes and go wherever the wind takes them. She is the only girl she knows able to sing along with any Metallica songs.

But even during these times, she could feel fleeting moments where something was holding him back. The way he would sometimes look in the rear view. He was always a sweet talker according to her mother. He could charm almost everyone into doing anything when he put his mind to it. She'd seen him in action more times than she can remember. But for him to really talk was rare. He never made her doubt his love for her, for Chris or for her mother. But he has his way to express it. He is a very good listener. He just isn't a talker. She knows something very bad happened to him before he met her mother. She can see the darkness in his eyes in those moments. She can almost touch this life that happened before her, and that made her father the man he is today. She asked her mother once; her only response was that one day he would be able to tell her. She wasn't sure her mother knew the entire story either. But she had seen the scars. How could she have not noticed? They were everywhere. On his back, across his chest. And this tattoo. It felt like another scar on his skin.

The times when his pain is the most obvious is when they visit her grandmother for the holidays. The whole family would gather, with her mother's three brothers, their wives and kids. She loves her cousins, she really does. Her greatest memories are the one of a hide and seek game with Chris, Carrie, her uncle Sean and her dad. But he would remain distant. Charming as hell to anyone who didn't know him very well. To her, he simply wasn't entirely there, in the present. He would look at her mother laughing with Sean, then look away, heartache written in every lines of his body. It wasn't hard to understand that he thought of his family. She had asked a long time ago, before her brother was born, why he didn't have a mommy and a daddy, and why they never saw his family. She will always remember the look on his face. It's not something she wants to see ever again. He stayed quiet a long time before taking her face in his hand and replying with watery eyes that she and her mother were his family. She never asked again. She didn't stop wondering though.

She considered looking on her own, almost did it on a rainy Sunday afternoon. But as she typed his name on the search engine, she felt as if she was betraying him, taking something from him he wasn't willing to give. And she couldn't stand the idea of hurting or disappointing her father. She remembers all too clearly the day she failed to watch Chris when he ran after a dog in the street. She remembers the panic, she remembers the despair, she remembers her mother's reassuring words that they would find him. But what she remembers the most is the anger laced with disappointment, when he told her that it was her duty to watch her brother. When he told her, even after her mother softly reminded him she was only a kid, that she was to protect her baby brother no matter what. He took the car that night, only came back he following day. Chris never got away again.

So she is waiting. She waits for the day her father will be able to tell her his story, to show her the demons hiding in the recess of his soul. For the day she'll look in the mirror and understand the image looking back at her.


End file.
